


Paperweight

by Annabelleleigh73



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I Don't Even Know, more fluffy fluff - Freeform, not canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:40:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22204975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annabelleleigh73/pseuds/Annabelleleigh73
Summary: A short fluff piece inspired by Roo Panes “Paperweights”
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Kudos: 16





	Paperweight

**Author's Note:**

> Be warned this isn’t beta’d  
> Total frivolity on my part...ignore any mistakes  
> Does not follow canon just my fancy.  
> Have fun...hopefully

It was tiresome, hiding behind the shield. Not being able to be himself. Seventy plus years had passed and the image was still a weight hanging from his neck like a stone. Most days, it wasn't really a problem. Others, he felt like he was just going through the motions, like an actor on a stage. And most days, he hated not knowing if her smile was genuine or if she were silently pitying him, his insecurity still strong after all these years. Inside he was still Steve from before....only the outside had changed. He avoided her, not wanting it to be the former rather than the latter. Avoidance was hard, though. It seemed almost as if she sought him out, that their bumping into each other wasn't accidental.  
The final straw was finding her already in the kitchen, still in her pajamas, hair running wild.  
Steve swallowed hard, trying not to image what it looked like scattered across the pillow as she slept. She exhaled a soft yawn behind her hand and murmured good morning as he stepped up to the counter. She gave him that same smile as she pulled down a mug for him and although her eyes had dark smudges under them, the light at seeing him was genuine when she offered him a full cup of hot coffee.  
He placed the cup on the counter without speaking and she looked at him quizzically when he didn't thank her as usual. Her look turned to surprise when he cup her cheek with his palm, his thumb gently brushing the darkness under her eye.  
"You're not sleeping.", his voice was raspy from sleep.  
"No...", hers low from the lack of.  
He was about to start kick himself mentally for the seemingly stupid comment but was shocked into internal silence when she closed her eyes and leaned into his palm.  
"Nightmares...", she sighed blinking her eyes open and noticed he wasn't moving, wasn't speaking.  
She stiffened and began to pull away, "I'm sorry..I..."  
He stopped her before she could take a step back.  
"No..." he pulled her back with a boldness spurred by uncertainty he saw for the first on her face. She was as unsure as he had been. He wrapped his arms around her before he slid his arms in better positions to pick her up, hooking an arm under her knees, causing her to fall back into his other arm that cradled her shoulders and neck.  
He lifted her up, not once breaking eye contact, knowing if he did he'd over think it. Holding her to his chest he went to the couch where he eased back into the cushions with a grace belying his height and build.  
"Since we are always the first up, there's still time before anyone else wakes. Sleep....I'll be here." He pulled over a blanket Wanda had left behind and tucked it around her.  
He was surprised she didn't protest and was surprised again when she quickly melted into him, boneless with exhaustion.  
He was smiling down at her, her mouth slack in sleep when Bucky came through, quiet as always, a testimonial to his time as an assassin.  
Bucky stopped, studying his friend.  
Steve, not looking up, whispered, his voice rumbling low in his chest, she didn't stir, "Got a problem, Barnes?"  
"Nah, about time you made a move, punk" his voice was a ghost drifting.  
He stepped closer, his voice dropped even lower, "I'm glad she's sleeping...nightmares."  
Steve looked up at him, a stab of jealousy in his gut that she had told Buck before him. Bucky didn't even look at him but continued to study her sleeping face.  
"Every night I hear her, waking up weeping. She doesn't know I can, she'd be upset more over the thought that she was bothering me. The only thing that bothers me is that she has something in her head to make her cry like that. You'd never know it during the day..."  
Steve's arms had tightened during Bucky's revelation.  
"I didn't know...", his voice came out harsher louder than he intended and she shifted in his arms.  
"Technically, no one does I'm sure. I only know because we share a wall and my hearing...", he trailed off at the strange look on his friend's face.  
"She told me...this morning. I commented she hadn't slept and she didn't deflect like everyone else usually does. She told me." He marveled at the idea that she had been open with him, no small thing in the company of spies and former assassins. He rolled it around in his mind like a pearl and didn't hear Bucky at first.  
"I said, are you ready to share that weight?", his friend of many years repeated, his eyes glinting in seriousness.  
Steve swallowed and nodded, too breathless at the all possibilities, at all the joy and all the heartache, that he held cradled in his arms. He looked back down at her face vulnerable in sleep "Yes."  
At his voice, she blinked awake and smiled up sleepily. She reached up and brushed his forelock from over his eyes.  
"You need a trim, getting a bit long.", she teased softly, blurting the first thing that came to her mind.  
Bucky chuckled, "I was always telling the punk he needed a haircut, he was constantly brushing it out of his eyes. Too busy saving the world, one thug at a time."  
"He still is.", she whispered.

**Author's Note:**

> Sigh....like I said not much just flight of fancy


End file.
